


Emphatically Yours

by StellarLibraryLady



Series: Star Trek Winter Holidays Series [4]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: AU, Almost Crack, Almost Fluff, Angst and Humor, Angst and Romance, Bickering, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, First Kiss, Humor and Romance, Jealous McCoy, M/M, Romance and Humor, Scheming Kirk, Snarky McCoy, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff, humor and angst, oblivious McCoy, romance and angst, spones - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-09-20 14:32:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9495899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StellarLibraryLady/pseuds/StellarLibraryLady
Summary: Much to McCoy's chagrin and frustration, Spock has taken the doctor's advice about a certain young lady.  Shouldn't that make McCoy happy that for once Spock has listened to him?  No!  It doesn't!  Jim Kirk is puzzled about McCoy's behavior, and McCoy cannot understand his own anger over Spock's newfound happiness.  Whatever is Dr. McCoy's problem?  Shouldn't he be happy about his friend's good fortune?





	

**Author's Note:**

> These Enterprise guys have so much trouble with romance, it must seem like Valentine's Day rolls around more than once a year. Sometimes, it probably feels like a daily event for them!

Leonard McCoy looked up from his office desk in Sickbay. “Mister Spock, what may I do for you this afternoon?”

Spock‘s face reflected his worry. “I am inquiring about Yeoman Phillips. I was wondering about her condition.”

McCoy looked thoughtful. “She suffered second degree burns. We got her all taken care of, though.”

Spock breathed deeply in relief. “Good. She was in a great deal of pain after the accident happened.”

“I know she was, but she’s resting comfortably now.”

“I feel responsible for her getting burned, and I wondered how she was doing.”

“She’s fine. Fine. You may visit her if you wish.”

“In a moment.” He frowned. “I was concerned about scarring.”

“I believe that the scars will fade, in time.”

“Will that bother Phillips?”

“She’s a young woman! Of course, it will bother her!” He saw Spock frown. “Look, ah, Spock, you can’t blame yourself. It could have happened just as easily to you. You didn‘t know that those chemicals were unstable.”

“I was the officer in command. I should have made allowances in case of just such an event happening.“

“The percentage of instability in those types of chemicals is extremely low. The possibility of an explosion with them is almost nonexistent.“

“But still the possibility exists, and I should have allowed for that occurrence. Now Yeoman Phillips has been injured, and there is the possibility of permanent scarring to her hands. I feel responsible.”

“Of course, you do! It wouldn’t be normal if you didn’t feel responsible! You‘re a good officer! You‘re concerned about your crewmen.” McCoy frowned. “What’s odd is that it’s you, a Vulcan, who feels discomfort. Or is it just your human side making an unannounced appearance?”

“It apparently is, Doctor. I am not accustomed to having to deal with emotions. It is not something that makes me feel very comfortable doing.”

“That’s alright, Spock. I’ll help any way that I can. And I understand how you are feeling.”

“No, you cannot, Doctor. If I had only stabilized the chemicals. If I had only cautioned Yeoman Phillips again.”

“If you hadn’t had Yeoman Phillips helping. If you had only scheduled the test on another day. If you had never even run that experiment.” McCoy smiled gently. “If you only hadn’t gotten up this morning. If only you didn‘t have an interest in science.”

“You are making fun of me?” Spock asked, feeling betrayed.

“That wasn’t my intention. I was merely trying to show that I understand what you are going through,” he explained kindly. “It’s one of those pesky human traits. It’s called empathy. It is my way of showing sympathy to you.” 

“Then it is most welcomed, Doctor. I appreciate your concern.”

“I am trying to show that I care about what happens to you. After all, you are my patient, too.”

“That does make me feel better. You know that I try not to allow my emotions to rule me.”

McCoy patted Spock on the upper arm. “Sometimes it’s allowed. It makes me feel like there’s hope for you yet.”

“Thank you, Doctor. I know that I am feeling better since I had this discussion with you.”

“Good. Good. And you might feel better yet if you visit with Phillips. You can see for yourself that she doesn’t blame you. She’s told me so herself, but it would do you a lot of good to hear it from her. Let her know that she was doing a good job. You might even take her some flowers sometime. Or candy. Fuss over her a little. That will make her feel better.”

“What about her scars?”

“Be aware of them. Don’t ignore them. Talk with her frankly about them and show her that they make no difference in your relationship.”

“I will feel ill at ease.”

“That’s natural to be nervous about seeing her again. There has been a change. Something happened, and that can’t be erased. But it can be lived with.”

“How?”

“By being the same people you have always been with each other. Inside, Phillips is still the nice young lady she was last week. She still likes horror films and iced mochas. She still has that great sense of humor that makes her laughter so infectious. She still is fun to be around and yet she’s very considerate and kind. None of that has changed. See that person, and soon you won’t notice the scars. Remember that she’s a person who has scars, not a scarred person.”

“You give excellent advice, Doctor.”

“Go see her now,” McCoy encouraged. “It’ll do you both some good.”

 

Several days later, Christine Chapel was helping McCoy check supplies when she suddenly said, “Oh, Mr. Spock was here while you were gone this afternoon.”

“I’m sorry I missed him. Did he have anything special that he wanted to see me about?”

Chapel smiled. “That’s the odd part.”

“Oh?”

“Well, and also the nice part,” Chapel added cryptically.

McCoy grinned. “I never pictured you as a woman of mystery, but you’re certainly being that way now, Christine.”

“I didn’t mean to be, Doctor,” she said with her own chuckle. “Mr. Spock wasn’t here to see you.”

“Oh?”

“No, he was here to see Yeoman Susanna Phillips.”

“Good! He’s following my suggestion then. I told him to visit Phillips. I thought that it would help both of them.”

“I believe that it is, Doctor.”

“Good. It’s nice to know that sometimes I can get something right. The old country doctor in me knows what’s best, after all,” he said smugly. 

Chapel’s face looked playful. “Was it also your suggestion that Mr. Spock should visit Susanna every day?”

McCoy frowned. “Oh?” He looked up. “Everyday, you say?”

Chapel just plain smiled. It was obvious that she was appreciating the romantic connotation to Spock's visits. “That’s right. Regular as clockwork. Two thirty. He never misses.”

Everyday? Hmm. That wasn't quite what McCoy had intended. 

 

The next day at two twenty-five, McCoy made sure he was in Sickbay. And, sure enough, Mr. Spock appeared. Chapel caught McCoy’s eye, looked wise toward Spock, then disappeared.

“Mr. Spock!” McCoy greeted. “Good afternoon!”

“Dr. McCoy,” Spock answered agreeably. “Nice to see you.”

“But not to the extent that you are bringing me gifts, are you?” He nodded at Spock’s hands.

“Oh, these.” Spock held up a pot of flowers. “Susanna likes pansies.”

“Does she also like chocolates?” McCoy asked, indicating Spock’s other hand.

Spock looked fondly at the sack in his other hand. “These are actually butterscotch disks.”

“Butterscotch disks. Spock, Spock, Spock, what will I ever do with you? Girls like chocolates.”

“Susanna likes butterscotch better.”

McCoy pondered this bit of information. “Oh?”

“Yes, in fact to the extent that the chocolate creams which I brought to her the other day had an unanticipated fate. It appears that I managed to eat them myself while I was talking to her. They just seemed to magically disappear, as if they flew into my mouth under their own power,” he explained with an ethereal smile.

“Oh?” McCoy did not like the sounds of this. Spock had been that distracted?

“I slept like a baby that night,” Spock said with satisfaction.

That information seemed to rile McCoy further. “No wonder! It was like an intoxicant to you!”

“Yes, I know,” Spock admitted with a soft smile. “Although it might have been Susanna herself who had that affect on me.”

“Susanna?!”

“Yes. Beautiful name, is it not? Well, if you will excuse me, Doctor. Susanna of the beautiful name will be wondering where I am. I am already three point seven minutes late.”

McCoy wondered what seven tenths of a minute equaled as Spock ducked into Phillips’ room. He heard Spock and Phillips exchange warm greetings, then the door closed on them.

McCoy frowned and felt oddly out of sorts. Whatever had he started?

 

The next day, Phillips was well enough to be discharged from Sickbay and returned to limited work in the laboratory. But her friendship with Spock did not diminish. In fact, much to McCoy’s chagrin, it escalated. The new couple was seen everywhere together.

McCoy should be congratulating himself on being a matchmaker. Instead, he found himself gnashing his teeth together.

 

“Spock and Phillips seem to be an item,” Kirk observed as he glanced across the mess hall at the animated couple who were talking and laughing together.

McCoy glanced also, then grunted his agreement.

Kirk studied McCoy. “What’s wrong, Bones? You don’t seem very happy for them. And I understand that you‘re the one who got them together.”

“It seems that I’m not a doctor anymore. Apparently, I missed my calling,” McCoy grumbled. “Now I’m a damn, skinny-kneed Cupid and didn‘t know it!” 

Kirk grinned. “I’d say that you were some kind of miracle worker. Phillips is having no psychological problems stemming from her accident, and Spock has really loosened up. He really seems to be enjoying her company.”

“Loosened up?! He’s come unwound! He‘s careening around the Enterprise like one of those damn balloons that someone blows up and then lets loose! He‘s being silly!”

“Bones?” Kirk asked, mystified.

“It isn’t natural! Vulcans aren’t supposed to act like that!”

“Like what? Like he is enjoying life, for a change?”

McCoy crossed his arms and glared. “Like I said. It’s unnatural.”

“Aren’t you happy for our friend? He seems to have found love.”

“Yeah! He’s in the middle of a damn fiesta!”

“Bones!” Kirk admonished with a laugh. “This isn’t like you! You shouldn’t be begrudging Spock some pleasure!”

McCoy uncrossed his arms, but still looked unhappy. “Begrudging?! Who is begrudging him?! I’m just saying, it’s unnatural! He’s a Vulcan! They don't take pleasure in anything! It's a matter of pride for them to suffer grandly! And they sure as hell make it a point that the rest of the universe realizes that! A Vulcan's greatest ambition is to have the rest of the universe suffer right along with them! Then they are truly happy! That's a Vulcan for you!”

“But he’s also half human,” Kirk reminded him softly.

"That's the only thing that saves him," McCoy grumbled. "But you never know which part of him is going to turn up. Generally, I get the smug, condescending Vulcan, not the fun loving, devil may care merry minstrel who's squiring Phillips around! You watch! One of these days he'll slip up when she's around. And then she'll get her eyes opened! She'll learn the truth about him, at last!"

“Well, whichever half is present today, we should be supportive. We need to be happy for his good fortune in having the companionship of a nice young lady.”

“I am happy for him!” McCoy barked crossly. “I’m as happy as a stinking assed blue jay frolicking in an overripe peach orchard!“ He glared at Kirk. “Couldn’t you tell?!”

Kirk studied the man who looked anything but happy. “I, ah, guess I couldn’t.”

“Well, it’s obvious! Pay more attention,” McCoy muttered. He dipped his spoon into his dish of soup and whipped it up to his mouth. He frowned. “Cold again!”

“You should have eaten it quicker.”

“It was too hot when I got it!” 

Kirk had the sudden image of two of the three bears in the Goldilocks story. Sadly, the bear for whom the porridge was just right was absent from Kirk‘s vision.

McCoy shoved his dish away in disgust, then frowned as he looked up. “Oh, hell, here come the young lovers now! He just has to gloat, I suppose!”

“Bones,” Kirk cautioned. “Play nice!” Then to the approaching couple, he called: “Susanna! Spock! How are you two this evening?”

The couple smiled in greeting. “Fine,” they both answered.

“And you, Captain?” Susanna asked.

“Never better.”

“And Dr. McCoy?”

“Disgruntled,” Kirk answered as they all looked at the glaring man with his arms crossed over his chest. “His soup is cold.”

“Oh, how terrible, Dr. McCoy!” Susanna Phillips sympathized. "What a shame!"

“Would you like me to get you another serving?” Spock asked amiably. "I would be more than happy to do that errand for you, Doctor."

McCoy muttered something and turned aside.

“I believe that won’t be necessary, Mr. Spock,” Kirk answered.

“Too bad. It was quite excellent in taste. Susanna and I both enjoyed it." He beamed down at Phillips. "Didn't we, Susanna?"

Spock and Phillips exchanged friendly smiles.

Kirk saw McCoy roll his eyes and look away in disgust. “I’m certain it was, Mr. Spock. Susanna, would you and Mr. Spock like to be seated with us?” he asked as he indicated the other two chairs at their table.

“Oh, that’s alright, Captain. We’re on our way to the evening musical,” Phillips explained.

“I understand that the visiting string quartet is incomparable,” Spock supplied.

“Well, you two enjoy your evening. Don't let us detain you.”

“Would you like to come with us, Captain?” Phillips asked. “Dr. McCoy?”

“Oh, that’s alright, Susanna, I‘m busy,” Kirk answered. “Besides, you know what they say about crowds.” He glanced at McCoy. “And the good doctor is busy, also. He regrets that he won’t be able to make it. Isn’t that right, Bones?”

McCoy favored the three with a withering glance, muttered something, and turned away again.

“Well, we will say good evening then.” Spock placed his hand on the small of Phillips’ back. "Come, Susanna. I want to introduce you to the conductor. He and I have exchanged critiques of certain Eighteenth Century etudes. He is quite learned."

"Oh, I did not realize that you were that well versed in musical literature, Spock." Her eyes shone with interest and admiration.

"A hobby mostly now, I must admit. I play several musical instruments, although I have neglected them of late. I do not seem to have the time nor inclination to devote sufficient attention to my studies of music as I should. I really need to get back to it."

McCoy cleared his throat several times to show his annoyance of the highbrow discussion.

“That sounds like quite a problem, Doctor. Do you have something caught in your throat?” Spock inquired as he and Phillips looked back at McCoy and Kirk.

“It's not in his throat,” Kirk answered, then muttered softly, “The problem is actually located on his other end. He seems to have something firmly wedged up in there, and it's making him cranky.”

McCoy glared at Kirk. Was Kirk thinking of a poker or somebody's foot or simply McCoy’s own head being lodged in McCoy's anal canal? McCoy didn’t like any of the prospects, and certainly none of them was true! And what did Kirk mean by insinuating that he wasn't being pleasant?! McCoy was trying to save the situation! Spock, Spock was the problem! Anybody should be able to see that Spock was making a complete fool of himself by bragging to that little bit of simpering fluff who was clinging so demurely to his arm! Someone had to stop him! It was embarrassing!

“Pardon, Captain?” Spock inquired. Any other time, Spock’s Vulcan hearing would have caught the innuendo, but he had turned to Susanna who had heard, understood, and giggled at what Kirk had mumbled. Spock was wondering what had caused her sputter of laughter and the mischief in her merry eyes. 

“Nothing, Spock,” Kirk clarified. “Just an observation. Nothing important, at all.”

“Alright then. Gentlemen.” He nodded to each in turn, then led a still smiling Phillips away.

“What the hell was that all about?!” Kirk demanded as he turned on McCoy. "What the hell is your problem?!"

“The Vulcan is acting stupid!” McCoy snarled.

“The Vulcan isn’t the only one! You need to get your thinking straightened out, and fast! You don’t want to lose Spock’s friendship, but you’re well on your way to doing just that!" His eyes snapped. "And you’re starting to put a real strain on mine!”

That remark did not help the attitude of the disgruntled doctor any.

 

From then the next day on, McCoy saw Spock and Phillips together everywhere. It was as if McCoy was drawing them to him. And the more he saw of them, the angrier he got.

Then one magical day, Susanna Phillips announced that she was leaving for advanced skin procedures that would completely erase her scarring. Then she was off to a permanent post at Star Fleet Academy. She would not be returning to the Enterprise.

It was a glorious day for Leonard McCoy. He did not care one iota if his friend Spock had lost a good friend. Life was tough all over, McCoy muttered to himself.

 

“I didn’t know that she was engaged, did you, Spock?” McCoy asked as they sat in Spock‘s quarters enjoying an after work drink.

“She had mentioned it to me.”

“And you didn’t share the information?!”

“I saw no reason why I should,” he answered with a shrug. “In fact, I thought that you wouldn't be interested in knowing more about her. You were never very friendly with Susanna.”

“I saw no reason why I should be. She was a patient, that was all.”

“She also seemed to be special to someone who is supposed to be a friend of yours. Is that not true?”

“I suppose,” McCoy mumbled. The Vulcan seemed to have a chip on his shoulder tonight, or maybe Spock was just nervous about something. McCoy began to feel ill at ease himself. “When did Jim say he was going to be here?”

“Jim is not going to be here this evening.”

McCoy frowned. “Oh?”

“I told him that I wanted privacy. I need to discuss something with you.”

“Well, if you’re going to start lecturing me about how I treated Susanna Phillips, I’m leaving,” McCoy said as he stood up. “Thanks for a lovely evening, but let’s cut it short, okay? Way short.” He muttered as he headed for the door.

Spock stood up, too. “Wait. I said that I wish to speak with you.”

McCoy turned back to face Spock. “Well, I don’t wish to listen! What do you think of that?!” he demanded.

“Not much. You will not hear me out?”

“No! I will not hear you out! And I don’t have to listen to whatever rubbish is on your mind!” He spun and took a step toward the door, all in one motion.

“You will hear what I have to say!” Spock declared as he grabbed the last thing of McCoy’s to turn away from him: a hand. 

“What the--” McCoy protested as he found himself being spun around toward Spock, then just that quickly he lost his balance and found that he was falling toward the Vulcan in a dizzying lunge. All of that spinning had caused vertigo.

The disoriented McCoy had not intended to crash into Spock like a determined football player, but momentum had sent him hurling in Spock's direction. His groping hands tried to gain purchase as he awkwardly flailed against Spock's body, first to regain his balance and then to shove away from Spock.

But Spock was just as determined. He grabbed McCoy into his arms, first to steady him and then to stop his breaking away again. “You will listen!”

But McCoy struggled. “I will not! Let me go, you idiot!” He nearly broke Spock’s strong hold.

“Wait! Listen!”

McCoy‘s struggles continued. “No! And stop groping me!”

Desperate times call for desperate measures. If Spock couldn’t reason with the erratic doctor on a logical level, then he would simply go on instinct.

So Spock went basic. 

He tightened his arms around the squirming man further so that McCoy was simply flailing and not making any headway to breaking the tightening hold on himself. But Spock was still having a problem with controlling the angry man, so he decided to divert McCoy's attention. He leaned forward and clamped his mouth over McCoy’s.

Spock favored Vulcan kissing with its refined ritual of mutual stimulation of the hands. But this didn’t seem like a Vulcan kissing type of situation. Spock needed to grab McCoy’s attention and hang onto it. This called for more drastic measures. This called for something that this Earthling understood. This called for the messy, brutal human kissing on the mouth. It was only logical.

But the Earthling was not in the mood for even this type of logic. McCoy fought the arms holding him in a powerful grip and the hard mouth plastered against his.

What about this type of kissing was pleasant, Spock wondered. It was like biting with the mouth closed. It was difficult to breath with his face squashed up against another face. The overall logistics just didn’t make any sense. And the hard slamming together of their faces and bodies just plain hurt when it had happened.

Spock didn’t understand this type of kissing or even the hugging, either. It didn’t make sense, it was awkward, and it was sloppy. And he certainly could not understand the reverence in which Earthlings held the exercise.

This was the gross occupation that had inspired human poets to write epic poetry and sappy love songs? This had launched a thousand ships and caused devastating wars? This was what caused man to leave a familiar hearth and home for a chancy relationship with an apparently indifferent lover? This was what had propagated the human race for countless generations? This action had done all that? This action which was threatening to break Spock’s front teeth and cut off the air supply through his nose? It’s a wonder that humans had ever made it out of the primal ooze, let alone advanced as far as they had if this action was their impetus.

And then a strange thing happened. Spock discovered that he was liking this kissing, and it seemed to be having a calming effect on McCoy. As McCoy’s struggles slowed slightly, a distinct whimpering in his throat increased. Just as Spock thought McCoy was going to halt the noise completely, he suddenly moaned loudly, grabbed Spock by the upper arms, and leaned into Spock. Spock felt McCoy’s mouth open under his, and a wonderful wetness enveloped his lips. The human had brought the primal ooze with him.

What was Spock to do? He opened his mouth, also, and met the Doctor head-on. 

Then Spock learned something he hadn’t realized he would. Even mad, Leonard McCoy was awfully sweet to kiss. 

Then the texture of their kiss changed. Arms that moments before had been hard as bars now gentled into instruments of cuddling. Hands that had been grasping, began, instead, to massage gently and stroke. Bodies got pressed together that had been separated only moments before. And this pressing together of their bodies felt wonderful all the way from their shoulders, clear down below to, well, their knees. Everything on the fronts of their bodies fit so nicely together, and everything felt nicely so pressed together. And it had all started with a kiss.

Now Spock understood the importance of the human kiss. It wasn’t an end unto itself, but a portal. And what a portal! Spock just hadn’t understood before, until he’d had it explained to him. And the explanation hadn’t needed a single word!

Spock decided that he liked this language without words.

He really liked this kissing on the mouth thing. Maybe the humans had something worthwhile here, after all. Spock was beginning to change his opinion and appreciation of it.

Because the kiss itself had changed again. After starting off so brutally, then becoming sensuous, it was ending almost wistfully.

Their lips separated. McCoy’s eyes flicked up to meet Spock’s, then lowered to Spock’s lips again. Then, after a couple of shallow breaths, McCoy’s lips were on Spock’s again. Then with a whimper, McCoy deepened the kiss, and his hands were on the back of Spock’s head and neck. Spock thought that their heads couldn’t be brought any closer together, but learned that they could be. Easily. 

Those hands were doing so many wonderful things to Spock’s flesh. And Spock felt those hands up and down his spine, even when the hands stayed still. How could that be, when the hands were in Spock's neck region? Then Spock decided that feeling the hands all over must be guided by the same principle that Spock could feel the doctor’s lips all over his body. It wasn’t just a touch that Spock was experiencing, but an awakening, an awareness, and an ache. Spock wanted to feel more.

McCoy broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against Spock’s. The heavy panting through his mouth was audibly heard, and his nervous fingers massaged the area between Spock’s neck and shoulders.

“Oh, darlin,’ what you’re doing to me,” McCoy confessed in a harsh whisper. “I didn’t know. I didn’t know. That's why I've been hurting so much! But I didn't know why I was feeling so bad! And now, and now....“

"And you know why now?" Spock wanted to know.

"And I know why now," McCoy answered softly.

But apparently McCoy wasn't sharing his newfound knowledge, even if Spock was curious.

McCoy drew his head back and his eyes began another wild search of Spock’s eyes. He was still breathing hard through his open mouth, but unashamed tears were streaming down his cheeks. It sounded like his sinuses were so stuffed that there was no way that McCoy could breath through his nose.

Spock was stunned what these human emotions could do to a man. McCoy seemed to be losing control of his will and his senses. But Spock didn’t have long to ponder that thought because McCoy’s open mouth clamped down on his again. There was nothing Spock could do but give into sensation. Then that ability left also, and Spock’s thoughts became a whirling kaleidoscope. He held onto the only anchor he had, McCoy’s body. McCoy must have been having the same problem with stability, for he hung onto Spock with all the strength he could muster.

“Touch me!” McCoy commanded hotly as he roughly broke the kiss. “I’m burning up! Touch me!”

Spock barely noticed the unreasonableness of the request as his hand trailed down the front of McCoy‘s body. Normally, Spock would wonder how touching with his warm hand could possibly cool anything or anybody. Now, he had set common sense aside and was running on animal instinct rather than logic. Besides, he was suddenly curious how it would be to touch the good doctor 'down there.'

It was wonderful. 

This feeling might not be logical nor the idea of touching, but both were certainly wonderful to do, he thought again as his cupped hand increased its pressure around McCoy’s penis. McCoy gasped, and Spock echoed him as it dawned on Spock that he was actually holding McCoy's man tool in his hand. There was an official name for that part of McCoy's anatomy, a medical term, but at that moment Spock couldn't have named it. Amazingly, all knowledge seemed to have fled Spock's intellect, and he seemed to be functioning on instinct. And, amazingly, that was alright, also.

McCoy was hard. That fascinated Spock. Now they matched. He added pressure so McCoy would be sure to feel him through the engorgement of that usually soft flesh.

Spock did not realize that that move was totally unnecessary since McCoy was well aware of where Spock’s hand had landed. And McCoy had asked for the relocation of Spock’s hand on that part of McCoy’s anatomy. Hadn’t he?

Still it came as a distinct jolt to have that alien hand on that intimate part of his body. Something so hoped for can come as a surprise, even if it has been requested and is anticipated. It still can cause wonder and glory. And a chilling thrill can come crashing through the body's system that can turn that strong body into the shivering aspen leaf that it was now.

McCoy gasped in surprise, and his eyelids fluttered. Urine nearly welled up out of him, urine that would have splashed out of him in the midst of a shattering orgasm. As it was, he managed to prevent the orgasm and felt the spasm of denial shaking his trembling body. Then he sighed in pleasure. He didn’t want to lose this tension yet.

Spock twisted his hand around the front of McCoy’s trousers, and McCoy mewed. He positively mewed. Spock didn't know that McCoy could mew. He wanted to hear it again, so he did. But this time there seemed to be a sob in it. McCoy seemed to be begging.

Spock marveled at that sound, so he twisted his hand again. But it was a deep, guttural sound that was produced that time, so Spock loosened his hold. He didn’t want McCoy coming in his hand. Not yet.

McCoy braced his wrists on Spock’s shoulders and drew his head back. “Maybe you better not, ah, do that so enthusiastically,” he suggested. “I’ll mess up the inside of my pretty uniform.” He looked up, and Spock saw that McCoy’s eyes were on fire. “But it would be worth it!” He swallowed hard. “Just so it was your hand that was doing that to me!” He dove into Spock’s arms again.

When they came out of that mutual hugging and pressing of bodies against each other, McCoy managed to ask, “What was it that you wanted to tell me?” He gently kissed Spock’s cheek just beyond the corner of the left side of Spock’s mouth.

“Funny, I seem to have forgotten exactly what I wanted to say.”

McCoy grinned. “It’s understandable. I got distracted myself.”

“I know that it had to do with what caused that kiss. I guess that instead of telling you, I showed you.”

“Damn good way to get your point across, that’s all that I can say.”

“Then we are friends again?”

“I think so,” McCoy answered with a laugh.

“Are we more than friends now?”

“Oh, yeah! Unless you go around kissing everybody that heartily or petting them into near orgasm with that magic hand. Yeah, I’d say that we are more than friends now. In fact, we are probably more than good friends, even. Very special friends. Ones with benefits.” He winked. "I hope."

“Are you truly mine?” Spock asked shyly, hoping McCoy understood how exclusive that was intended. Then he was astounded because he had never seen McCoy grin like that, like he was taking in the whole universe.

“Yours? Am I truly yours?! Why, Mr. Spock, I’ll say this to you. And I mean it with all of the sincerity that I can muster. I am emphatically yours!” He got a worldly gleam in his eyes and stepped forward to take Spock into his arms. “Now, kiss me again, so I’ll always remember.” His eyes flicked over Spock’s face with all the fullness in his heart laid bare. “As if I could forget!”

Spock breathed deeply and allowed just the hint of a smile to curve along his lips before he complied. He raised one eyebrow in pleased satisfaction. He had been using one of those pesky human emotions against McCoy the last few days. It was called jealousy. And it had worked magnificently.

Spock reminded himself to be sure to thank Captain Kirk for his excellent advice following the mess hall incident. Jim had been most astute in his observation that McCoy had been simply jealous. Spock had wanted to talk out the situation with McCoy, but Jim had advised differently. And Jim’s remedy for the problem had proven to be exactly right.

Forget logic and forget being nice. If you want McCoy, you've got to talk his language. Or, in this case, don't talk at all. Just grab on tight to McCoy and don’t let go. Let your actions do your talking for you.

Spock could do that.

So he had done that because Spock's proposed logical, dispassionate talking hadn't worked. It hadn't worked because McCoy had refused to listen.

Then Spock decided to follow the rest of Jim Kirk's advice. Kiss the hell out of McCoy until he's half drunk with passion, and then kiss him some more. Then do whatever feels right with the slobbering bastard you've got left.

Spock could do that, too.

So he did.

Then, somewhere in the middle of all that kissing, Spock learned something else on this day of amazing discoveries.

Leonard McCoy was awfully sweet to kiss, even when he wasn’t angry.

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing dealing with Star Trek, including story lines and/or characters.


End file.
